3
Right after Klimt was expelled from the gate, Sora let out a muffled groan.
It wasn’t from pain. Rather, the opposite. The influx of Klimt’s soul through the Soul Equipment was so immense that a cry of joy escaped him.
After a brief moment, a sensation like his body was being cleansed from the inside coursed through him. It was the instant Sora’s level increased from [10] to [11].
Since Klimt was still breathing, Sora didn’t gain three or four levels like when he defeated Jijinbo, but there was no doubt he had stolen a considerable amount of soul. Judging from the feel of his strike, Sora concluded that he had undoubtedly incapacitated Klimt.
Sora’s ears caught Kuraia’s cry, her voice pale with shock.
“Klimt!!”
Although she didn’t turn her back on Sora to rush to her brother, averting her gaze was just as much of an opening.
Sora didn’t miss this opportunity. He thrust his Soul Equipment into the ground before him, crossed his arms in front of his body, and pointed his right palm towards Goz and his left palm towards Kuraia.
And then—
“[Give my enemies the embrace of death—Fire Princess]”
He unleashed the fifth circle fire magic, Fire Princess, at maximum power.
This was the magic once used against the resisting Miroslav in the Fly King’s nest. And the magic used against Jijinbo’s Soul Equipment, Shizuka Gozen, in the royal capital.
Now, the latter—Shizuka Gozen—was floating in Sora’s mind.
The gentle voice that whispered in his ear just before he cut down Jijinbo, when he destroyed the Soul Equipment. He didn’t know whose voice it was. He didn’t know what it said. All Sora remembered was that the voice was very kind and gentle.
There were things he could guess, but with Jijinbo now departed to the netherworld, everything was mere speculation.
So, using this magic here was Sora’s sentimentality. It was his selfish sentiment of wanting to give meaning to the life of the voice’s owner, pretending he had been granted this fire magic.
Three from his right hand, three from his left. Flame tentacles as thick as logs rushed towards Goz and Kuraia. Though fewer in number than Shizuka Gozen, their speed and power were on par with his Soul Equipment.
“What!?”
“Hm.”
The reactions of the two who witnessed Sora’s powerful magic—Sora who once couldn’t even handle basic techniques—were contrasting.
Kuraia leaped back in astonishment, while Goz merely raised an eyebrow, not moving a step from where he stood.
After a beat, a deafening roar echoed through the streets of Ishka.
Goz had taken all three direct hits while standing still. The impact kicked up a fierce cloud of dust.
Meanwhile, Kuraia, who had jumped back, quickly regained her stance and, suppressing her inner surprise, focused on the approaching flame arms. She held her jade longsword in a proper stance.
“Come forth, Kusanagi!”
Her clear, dignified voice shook the surrounding air, and Kuraia’s sword was enveloped in wind.
The wind pressure was so violent it seemed it could blow her away just by standing there. As Kuraia swung her Soul Equipment, the fiercely approaching flame arms were instantly dispersed, crashing into the surrounding ground.
A thunderous roar echoed, and a large amount of stone fragments and soil were thrown up. But the wind created by Kusanagi scattered even that in an instant.
If Klimt’s Soul Equipment was the divine sword of flame, then Kuraia’s Soul Equipment was the divine sword of wind. If she wished, she could probably create a tornado and half-destroy Ishka without moving.
Sora knew this. And there was one more thing Sora knew.
“—Lord Sora. Prepare yourself.”
Without even blinking, Kuraia stared at Sora with blood-red eyes.
Her mask-like countenance showed no anger at her brother being cut down. However, looking at her roaring Soul Equipment, it was clear that Kuraia was inwardly furious.
Just as much as the brother adored his sister, or perhaps even more, the sister cared for her brother.
Beneath her calm personality, she harbored an intensity surpassing her brother’s. That was who Kuraia was.
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—Therefore, easy to exploit.
Sora pulled out his Soul Equipment thrust into the ground and mockingly replied.
“That’s my line. Don’t think you’ll get away with hurting my comrade.”
“There was a reason for cutting down the oni.”
“Then die for that reason. Along with your brother groaning pathetically behind you.”
“…I understand. Further dialogue is unnecessary. Let’s settle this with our swords.”
“That’s what I want.”
As he spoke, Sora’s black sword howled as it heightened its magical power. Swirling in a spiral, it was like a small dragon, transmitting a numbing pressure just by facing it.
—To think it would be this much.
Kuraia gritted her teeth and muttered inwardly.
She hadn’t underestimated Sora. However, knowing the Sora of the past, Kuraia couldn’t help but overlap the image of the boy from five years ago with the young man before her. She remembered Mitsurugi Sora standing dazed after losing the trial ceremony.
The two incongruent Soras. The discomfort arising from this created small threads that even now entangled Kuraia’s limbs. This discomfort was also the reason for her delayed reaction to the earlier fire magic.
Could it be that Sora exchanged words with Goz to cause this confusion? Did he declare before the three of them that he was undoubtedly Mitsurugi Sora?—It was when Kuraia had such doubts.
Sora raised his Soul Equipment high. The blade, bathed in Klimt’s blood, gleamed crimson as it reflected the sunlight.
Kuraia slightly narrowed her eyes as she received that light, then carefully readjusted her stance with her Soul Equipment. The distance between them was great; merely swinging the sword wouldn’t reach. Sora was probably going to use Hayate—a flying slash.
While Hayate itself was a basic technique, she couldn’t let her guard down. When Klimt was cut down, Sora had certainly nullified Klimt sword’s flame. If so, she should assume he could also nullify Kusanagi’s wind. It was dangerous to meet Sora’s technique head-on.
Of course, engaging in a duel of soul weapons would be ill-advised.
‘I should use the wind of Kusanagi to deflect Sora’s attacks while probing his abilities.’ Just as she decided to act on this thought, Kuraia was once again struck by an unsettling feeling.
Something was off, she sensed. Sora’s gaze.
Sora, who was about to unleash a slash, wasn’t looking at Kuraia but behind her—
“Klimt!”
Hearing that cry, Sora’s mouth curved into a crescent shape.
At this moment, Kuraia was standing directly between Sora and Klimt. If Kuraia dodged the attack, Sora’s slash would strike Klimt. Seeing the soul weapon roaring in Sora’s hand, it was clear as day that this strike would be fatal.
To protect Klimt, Kuraia had no choice but to take Sora’s attack head-on.
Realizing this, Kuraia bit her lip.
She was cornered. Was this a coincidence? No way. But if not, when exactly had this been planned? How long had she been dancing in the palm of her opponent’s hand? If even Klimt’s survival was just a setup to cut down Kuraia…
A shudder of dread ran down Kuraia’s spine.
The next instant, a voice as sharp as a needle pierced Kuraia’s ears.
“Try to stop this, Golden Generation.”
With those words, an invisible slash was released.
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